Sacrifice
by XgreeneyedelfX
Summary: my view what happens after the episode 'Great Game' ends... angst because im like that. sorry if i spell Moriarty's name wrong... i have no idea how to spell it haha
1. Chapter 1

I watched the last episode of Sherlock and I'm soooo desperate to know what happens next… so this is my idea of what might happen. Haven't written in a while so to those who are waiting for me to update my stories I promise I will try and do it soon. Just so busy atm. Enjoy

Sacrifice

Sherlock held the gun firmly and with composure as he aimed it and the bomb that lay at his feet. He knew there was no hope for him but maybe he could save John.

"John get out of here," said Sherlock, but his gaze did not leave Moriarty.

"I'm not leaving you here Sherlock."

"Aw how sweet" said Moriarty, his voice slightly eccentric.

"Don't be a stubborn ass John. Get out of here run!"

John knew what Sherlock was going to do and he wasn't going to let him die alone.

"Sherlock I'm not going to leave you here to die alone."

"I'm not going to die alone, I'm taking him with me."

"No you won't!"

Sherlock knew John wasn't going to leave and that comforted him, John was his best and only friend and the thought of him willing to sacrifice himself so that he, Sherlock Holmes didn't die alone brought warmth to him. It was enough for Sherlock to tighten his finger on the trigger.

Sssssssss

John saw Sherlock tighten his hold on the trigger and in that moment he rose to his feet and threw himself at Sherlock sending them both flying into the pool as the bomb went off. John noticed red blood swirl around them and he waited for the pain but it never came. Then he realised it was emanating from Sherlock's shoulder. The fire died down above them and he risked swimming to the surface. The pools roof was gone and a lot of I lay strewn across the floor. But the damage wasn't a bad as he had thought it would be. Moriarty must have known that Sherlock would do something like this so made sure the bomb wasn't powerful enough to destroy the building. That way he could escape virtually unharmed if he ran quick enough. The body of one of the snipers lay by the side of the pool and John noticed he was only young, early 20s maybe and he felt sorry for the boy. But he was definitely the one that shpt Sherlock and that sorrow soon faded.

John pushed Sherlock's limp form up and out of the pool. When he was sure Sherlock was relatively secure on the pools edge he got out to. The night breeze made him shiver but he didn't care, he was more concerned that very little blood now escaped Sherlock's body. He checked to see if Holmes' was breathing… nothing… he checked for a pulse… nothing.

"No don't you die on me now." He said as he tilted Sherlock's head and blew air into the man's dormant lungs. He began compressions and then checked, still nothing.

"Come on Sherlock." He said as he blew air into the mans lungs again.

At that moment Lestrade ran in though one of the more intact doors. He then stood there shocked as he saw John Watson performing CPR on Sherlock. He had read Sherlock's message about meeting at the pool and when he'd heard the place had blown up he'd driven as fast as he could. He hadn't realised thought till that moment that he actually cared for the cocky inspector.

John looked up and noticed and shouted:

"Help him he's dying."

Lestrade knew he shouldn't have run in, in the first place but he just couldn't stop himself. Now he knew that one part of the building was relatively intact he went and got the medics.

John continued to do CPR on Sherlock not giving up.

"Come on… breathe!"

Then Sherlock drew a breath, it was like music to his ears. Medics burst through the doors and pushed John out the way. They placed Sherlock on a gurney and intubated him as the inspector began to gasp for breath again.

This was going to be a long night.

Sssssss

John sat at Sherlock's bedside, the hissing and beeping of machines filling his ears. He had only known Sherlock a small amount of time but he already considered the man his closest friend and seeing him surround in wires and tubes filled his heart with sadness. What saddened him more was the lack of concern that the police he worked with felt towards the man. Molly was still mad but very much concerned and so was Lestrade but no one else seemed to care.

No one cared that the only thing keeping Sherlock breathing was the tube that protruded from his mouth or that fact that he was willing to risk his life to save the hundreds of people Moriarty was likely to kill next.

Sherlock Holmes had become a good man, and no one cared.

Well there it is… if you want me to continue then say but I only intended it to be a one-shot sorta thing… please tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Waiting

The more John Watson waited for his friend to wake up the more he convinced himself he never would. The sound of the ventilator hissing made john weak at the knees, the thought of anyone artificially breathing was a sad thought. Six days had passed since the pool incident and the doctors where beginning to become concerned. John was a doctor, hey knew Sherlock should be showing signs of waking up by now. John took his friends hand in his and looked at the pale mans face. The tube in his mouth making the man look weak and almost innocent, the way he was so still was unnatural. Sherlock was constantly bouncing around and telling people their idiots. This was not the Sherlock he knew.

"Sherlock squeeze my hand if you can hear me!" he knew it was cheesy in a way, asking Sherlock to do that but he just wanted some reassurance that Holmes was still with him, it was strange. A while back he only really thought of Holmes as his slightly eccentric flat mate and now he thought of him as his closest friend. Since he'd returned from the war he hadn't spoken to any of his old friends or really his family. He had detached himself from the world. Then he met Sherlock Holmes, eccentric young man with an amazing mind and yet no friends to speak of. He had his brother whom he seemed to loath and yet no friends at all. Maybe that's why they got on so well, they both had trouble making friends yet they're both loyal to the ones they have. John had found a girlfriend Sarah but they weren't serious so really all he had was Sherlock. Already once he thought that Sherlock had been killed when an explosion had erupted from across the street. But not he really thought that maybe this was how Sherlock Holmes would meet his end.

Ssssssss

At first all he could feel was pain, pain in his shoulder that pulsated through the rest of his body. Then he realised he couldn't breathe himself and the uncomfortable feeling of sometime down his throat. He started to panic, not something Sherlock Holmes did very often but right now all he could do is panic.

Ssssssss

John woke to the sound of choking. He turned to see Sherlock, eyes wide it fear choking on the tube.

"Help!" he shouted.

A doctor and two nurses burst into the room pushing him out of it and forcing him to wait outside. He paced nervously, what if something was wrong. But then he remembered the look of utter horror on Sherlock's face and dread filled him. He never thought he'd see that sort of fear on a man's face again. He had seen that look so many times on men that were dying, they were so scared and that look had haunted John ever since.

The doctor left the room and walked towards john. His face was emotionless and that made a pit form in John's stomach.

"Is he ok?"

"Mr Holmes has just woken up, he seems to be breathing ok without the ventilator but we are keeping him on oxygen. You can go in and see him if you like, he's asking for you."

Relief washed over John like a great wave. Sherlock was ok he was ok. John entered the room slowly. Sherlock was lying propped up with a nasal cannula laced round his nose. He was looking out the window with a rather vacant look on his face.

"Good to see you awake."

Sherlock still didn't look at him; this made John begin to worry all over again. Maybe there was permanent damage from the water. Maybe this wasn't the Sherlock he knew.

"Are you ok?" John added as he moved to Sherlock's side.

"I'm fine." Said Sherlock, his tone flat and icy, his gaze never wavering from the window.

"The doctor said you were asking for me!" Said John as he sat himself in his previous perch.

"I did."

"Something you wanted to say?"

At that moment a tear slipped from Sherlock's sky blue eye. He squeezed them shut in an attempt to stop the rest flowing.

"Sherlock?" said John, his tone concerned.

"Thank you," Sherlock paused "you saved my life so thank you."

"What friends are for."

Sherlock quickly shifted his gaze to Watson, to be met with a genuine smile that brought warmth to his heart.

There was still a haunted look on Sherlock's face, a look that scared John. He had a feeling that Sherlock may never be the same man again. He may pretend and act the way he was but deep down he will be a tortured soul.

"Did I kill him?" he asked, his gaze shifting to the window again.

"No, he managed to get out it seems. There was only the bodies of the shooters left behind, and us."

"How long was I out?"

"Six days."

All Sherlock did was not. For what John did not know but he suspected Sherlock was trying to figure out how Moriarty escaped.

"The bomb didn't destroy much of the pool. A lot of it was intact. That's probably how he managed to escape." Said John trying to relieve Sherlock of trying to figure it out. Sherlock did not answer however he just remained still with once again a vacant look upon his face.

Well you asked and I wrote… its not long but I hope its enough, thanks for the reviews. Tell me what you think


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